Tangled Dreams
by clicketykeys
Summary: Vacy wakes up suddenly; Corso shows up to check on her but things aren't quite as he thought... STRONG M. Chapter 2 - even more M than 1!
1. Chapter 1

**Tangled Dreams**

One-shot set late on Taris; strong M for limeyness.

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><p>Vacy had gotten used to waking up covered in sweat, breathing hard, heart pounding, the sheets tangled around her.<p>

This time it was different.

_Corso! _

She blinked… and then sighed, looking around her cabin on the _Wonder_. Mostly it was nice to have the ship back, but she wasn't sure how much noise she'd made before waking. The metal walls tended to amplify sound rather than muffle it, and she'd hate to think she was going to make any sort of habit of disturbing her crew's sleep.

Footsteps, and then a light tap at her door. "Captain? You okay in there?" came the voice of her first mate, Corso Riggs.

Vacy rubbed a hand over her face. "I'm all right, Riggs, thanks," she called quietly. Maybe she'd buy everyone a set of earplugs in the morning.

"You sure?"

Realizing that he was not going to go back to sleep until he had looked in and checked to make sure that she really was all right, Vacy sighed and reached over to the panel by her bed, pressing her palm against it.

The door slid open with a hiss, and Corso stepped just inside, rubbing his arms. "I just – I thought – well. You sure you're okay?"

She set her jaw, then looked up at him – and breathed a sigh of relief. He still looked fine as blazes, but at least he either wore PJs to bed, or he'd had the decency to get dressed before coming to check on her. She nodded. "Just a dream."

A frown pulled at his mouth, and he walked over and took her hand. "Is it the rakghouls?" he asked. They'd heard that the monsters that roamed throughout most of the ruins on Taris had once been human, and neither of them had spoken much of the awful possibilities they faced. When Vacy shook her head, Corso sat down, looking more worried. "Rogun? Something else?"

Vacy closed her eyes again, tension thrumming through her entire body, and just shook her head.

He didn't push further, but wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her gently against his chest, feeling her tremble against him. "Sh. It's all right."

She nestled her face in the side of his neck, nuzzling against him softly, and he shivered just a little. The tip of her nose was cool against his skin, but her lips were warm and moist. He let out a little nervous-ticklish laugh. "Hey now, ain't fair to go takin' advantage of a fellow just because you've had a bad dream," he said lightly. Turning toward him, she shifted, straddling him, and when he looked into her eyes, her lids were heavy, her pupils wide and dark. She leaned forward, rubbing her cheek against his, and she was warm, and he tried not to think about how thin her nightshirt was, or how the straps slid loosely down her shoulders.

Vacy ran her lips along the edge of Corso's earlobe. "It was a _good _dream," she murmured, then bit down ever so softly.

Oh. Oh, _no_. Understanding suddenly dawned, and as much as Corso tried to think about something – _anything_– other than what exactly had happened in that dream, his imagination was working overtime against him, and it didn't help that she was in his arms, kneeling astride him, and he was really glad he had trousers on because he didn't want to think about what she was – or wasn't – wearing. He breathed out her name, then reached up, placed his hands on her shoulders, cursed himself for being a blithering idiot, and slowly pushed her away from him.

She blinked. This was not how it was supposed to work. Her lower lip popped out petulantly. "But I want you," she grumbled. Something devilish took over, her eyes narrowed a moment, and then she looked up at him, blinking wetly. "Don't… don't you want me?" she whispered, her voice quavering.

But as much of a sucker as Corso was for a woman in tears, the change had come over Vacy too quickly for him to be fooled this time. In one smooth, quick motion, he leaned forward, pushing, and pinned her beneath him. "Yes," he breathed, kissing the little hollow at the base of her throat, and he ached to thrust against her, to show her just how much he wanted her. Blazes, forget that, he ached to reach down and find out just how much _she_ wanted _him_.

With something between a growl and a groan, he pulled back just a touch. "But you have to know that this hurts, Vee," he said gently. He leaned in and kissed the tattoos on her cheeks – left, first, then right. "It just crushes me to think that this is all you want from me – a friend who's a bit of fun when the urge strikes."

Vacy avoided his gaze as he sat up, because she knew she hadn't been fair to him.

Corso reached down, brushing his thumb along the curve of her chin. "Maybe some day I'll just give up an' give in, an' say this is enough." Leaning down, he pressed his lips tenderly to her forehead. "But not yet."

She felt that little flutter in her heart again, and did her best to ignore it, sticking out her tongue at him in a pert gesture. "I am going to go shower," she retorted, swinging her legs off the bed and standing. She looked over her shoulder at him, tilted her nose up, and added, "And I will be thinking of _you _while I'm in there."

And as she crossed the room, he was pretty sure she added a bit more sway even than what she usually had. He swallowed, hands clenching into fists as he watched. Then he smiled, his eyes lighting up with a flicker of hope. If she was sniping at him like that, surely it must mean he was getting to her, too.

His grin broadening, he headed out and down the hall to the crew's refresher. A long, steaming-hot shower sounded like a very, _very _good idea.

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><p>[I am so mean to them! Unfortunately, it's going to be quite awhile before anybody gets to be truly happy. :P]<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

_"I will be thinking of _you_ while I'm in there."_

Corso reached down and pulled the lever for the shower, and steam poured out. It stung for a moment, and then he felt the tension in his shoulders and back easing as the heat relaxed his muscles. Well, some of them, anyway.

He didn't think he was ever going to forget the way she'd arched her back, pressing her hips down against his as she whispered, "it was a GOOD dream." He groaned, leaning forward into the spraying vapor. Stars, it just didn't seem fair for her to be so soft... so warm...

Sighing, he wondered if she really she really did plan to - well - to do what she'd hinted at. He imagined her leaning back against the shower wall, knees slightly bent, legs spread, reaching down... The thought of her body writhing in pleasure sent a tight stab through him. _Was _she thinking about him as she stroked herself? Was she slick, picturing his body against hers? Was she content thrusting her fingers in and out, or was she imagining what it would be like to wrap one leg around his hips as he pinned her there to the shower wall and pressed into her?

Almost unconsciously, he reached down, stroking his length as he remembered how she had let out a tiny squeak when he flipped and pinned her. _Wonder what other little noises she makes._ His fingers brushed his tip and he tensed for a moment, tilting his head back. _Wonder what'd get her to make 'em. _He leaned forward, one hand bracing against the wall in front of him. His locks, now soaked, dripped water onto the tiles below.

_"Don't you want me?"_ The memory of her voice sent a shudder down his spine and his hips jerked as he rubbed his thumb along his slit. _You think you know, beautiful, but truth is you got_ no_ idea. _She didn't seem to like the idea of 'belonging' to anybody; he'd wanted to explain that it wasn't like that, not really, but she'd never let him get a word in edgewise on the matter.

Corso exhaled in a quiet moan. He had gotten used to a near-continual ache, but the knowledge that she dreamed of him _in that way _and was at this very moment wet and naked… His breath hitched, and he formed a circle with his fingers.

_Vacy…_

He pushed slowly forward into the circle, and she was warm and tight around him. Image and sensation together sent sparks through him and he moaned, low and hungry. He thrust again, and she whimpered, her eyes fluttering closed, and then she would push against him _oh stars _and he'd thrust deeper – harder –

His breath came in ragged gasps as his hips pumped, again and again, then finally bucked and he shuddered, lost in thoughts of dark hair and green skin and whispered words he feared he'd never actually hear her say.


End file.
